


Gathering supporters and adherents

by Petra



Series: The country of the heart [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Schmoozing, Social Networking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hors d'oeuvres are all fine--this time, but Nathalie will never forget or forgive the false calamari incident--and the drinks are flowing freely enough that someone across the room is laughing much too loudly. (February 2007)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gathering supporters and adherents

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://twitter.com/g_e_m_likeflame)[**g_e_m_likeflame**](http://twitter.com/g_e_m_likeflame) for the bunny, to [](http://jamjar.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**jamjar**](http://jamjar.dreamwidth.org/) and [](http://derryderrydown.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**derryderrydown**](http://derryderrydown.dreamwidth.org/) for alpha reading, and to the indefatigable [](http://sage.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://sage.dreamwidth.org/)**sage** for beta reading. This story is fiction and bears no deliberate resemblance to anyone's life.

Making an event flow smoothly is no small task, no matter how many people are on hand to help with the logistics. The hors d'oeuvres are all fine--this time, but Nathalie will never forget or forgive the false calamari incident--and the drinks are flowing freely enough that someone across the room is laughing much too loudly.

Some of the city officials and the state functionaries have no idea how to pace themselves, but as long as it makes them expansive and willing to spend money, so much the better. They don't all promise more when the corners of their mouths are turned up, not unless they mean it.

It helps to have them smiling at Mario, who's glad-handing everyone who gets close enough, smiling at them one after the other. Some of them--most of them--have to be tired of hearing him by now, but until there's a solid plan for the new arena, he's not backing off.

Part of Nathalie's job is to get the people who've heard it all before to stand still long enough to listen again and agree to the new wrinkles. It helps that this time, Sidney's at her elbow, willing to shake as many hands as he has to.

"Ah, so this is the young man who's been setting the headlines on fire--excuse me, turning them into blocks of ice," Richard says, taking Sidney's hand with the firmness of a man who sincerely believes that a handshake is a judge of someone's character, and obviously pricing out his clothes at the same time. Knowing Richard, he probably gets to within ten dollars. The next time Sidney makes a face over pocket squares, Nathalie will remind him of this moment, and the way Richard's smile changes. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," Sidney says. He's learning to sell the line, and he's already an expert at refusing to look bored no matter how many times people make the same strained jokes.

Nathalie says, "So good to see you again, Richard. How is Elaine?" She lets him kiss her cheek.

"A little under the weather, but we're all looking forward to the next game." Richard smiles at Sidney with the same acquisitive expression he uses when people bring their daughters to this sort of event. "Are you starting, Sidney?"

"That's the plan, yes."

Mario claps Sidney's shoulder--the last time he had to do that to Lauren in front of Richard to get the point across, Nathalie had had words with Elaine--and says, "Sidney's going to be captain, next season."

"Probably," Sidney says, but it gets lost under Richard's congratulations.

"It's always good to hand these things on to the next generation while we're still around to help," Richard says.

There is a moment--there always is, with Richard--when he'd pat Sidney's shoulder, except Mario hasn't let him go. It comes across differently with Sidney, who's wider than Richard, but still, possibly, innocent enough not to notice.

He might have been, this time last year, but they hadn't brought him to any events like this then. Since then, he's learned a few things, like when to offer to fetch a lady her stole, when it's appropriate to jump into a conversation to change the subject, and when it's better to walk away than fight a battle.

"I hate to ask, Sid, but could you get me a refill?" Nathalie offers him her empty glass. "You'll have a much easier time getting through the crowd than I would, I'm sure."

"Just imagine them all on skates," Richard says, laughing at his own joke.

Sidney laughs too, and with any luck Richard thinks it sounds real. His fingers brush hers as he takes the glass. "Of course," he says. "Mario?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Excuse me." With a nod to Richard, Sidney's off through the clusters of people, dodging around women in gowns and men in suits.

Mario takes the opportunity to give Richard the current pitch and elaborate on it. Richard has a few questions, better than some, worse than others. He stops stalling after a while and says, "I'll get back to you tomorrow."

"Thank you," Mario says.

While they're winding up, Nathalie catches Catherine's eye and gives her a little wave. "Oh, Mario, I have to speak to her. Excuse us, Richard."

"Of course," he says, and there's another round of handshakes.

"Give Elaine my best," Nathalie says, and they're on to Catherine, whose precise role in the city government goes by the title of "Clerk" of some sort, but encompasses a great deal of influence and the kind of power that gets her invited to important parties, and Catherine's husband, whose name is probably Terry.

Sidney finds them again while Mario is talking to Catherine and Nathalie is trying to get more than a "Yes" or "No" out of Terry. Terry has a blazer that doesn't match his slacks and the glazed look of someone who's not quite sure how he got to his current social position by marrying a civil servant, and is enjoying all the perqs, especially the open bar. Nathalie says, "Thank you, Sidney," and glances over. Mario's at the wrong point in his patter to break in, so she introduces Terry instead.

Terry fumbles his glass and shakes Sidney's hand. After the nice-to-meet-yous and Terry's eyes bugging out a little, Terry says, "Um, this is awkward, but--"

Sidney's smile is much less forced with Terry than it had been with Richard. "Yes?" he asks.

Nathalie could kiss him for it, and the lack of resignation in his voice.

"Could you--just--an autograph, for my nephew?"

"Sure," Sidney says. "Do you have something, or--"

"No, sorry," Terry says.

"It's fine." Sidney takes out a Sharpie and a pad of card stock out of his inner jacket pocket.

It took some experimentation to find jacket styles that would suit him, rather than merely clothing him--or most of him, at least. Most of the experimentation went into finding the right person for the job, rather than the right clothes. Should anyone ask, Nathalie has business cards in her clutch. The trouble with finding someone who can work magic with a needle is that no one has asked exactly how it was done, yet, but she has given the tailor's information to the team, highly recommended.

The requirement of carrying at least three markers at all times plus materials that would stand up to being clung to by people with nervous, sweaty hands didn't on the upper reaches of the jacket, either. Sidney had finally given in and let Nathalie make the necessary arrangements--after she gave him sufficient reasons and a concrete reward system.

"Here you go," Sidney says, handing the paper over to Terry.

"Terry, what--oh," Catherine says.

Mario chuckles--he's practiced that enough times that Nathalie can smile through it, no matter how strange it sounds--and says, "They're not making any back-room deals, I promise," before he introduces Sidney.

Catherine shakes Sidney's hand. "Nice to meet you," she says. "Thank you for humoring Terry."

"It's no trouble," Sidney says.

"The last thing we want at this kind of event is to admit we're asking each other for something," Catherine says wryly. "How are the kids doing, Nathalie?"

Watching Catherine listen to the answers is fascinating--she doesn't think much of the school dramatics locally, judging by the way her mouth twitches, and the indulgent look for Stephanie and Austin's games is only to be expected. Nathalie returns the question. "Goodness, Bridget must be almost done with college now, isn't she?"

"Almost," Catherine says with a proud smile. "Or she would be, if she hadn't decided to get her Master's."

"Good for her," Nathalie says. She can't remember what Bridget's major is, if she ever knew. She taps Sidney's elbow twice.

"What's she studying?" he asks.

While Catherine answers the question in detail, Nathalie makes a mental note--politics. And she owes Sidney for that save.

"Excuse me, ladies, Terry, Sid," Mario says, and shakes Terry's hand, then Catherine's. "Give Bridget our best, will you?" and he's off after someone else.

"Sorry about that." For the fourth time that night, Nathalie smiles and says, "You know how goal-oriented he can be."

Terry laughs. "That's not a bad thing, not at all."

Catherine says, "We'll let you go. Thanks again, Sidney. Lovely to see you, Nathalie."

"And you," Nathalie says. They have other people to corner, no doubt. She takes a moment to check Sidney over and frowns at his lapels. "Doing all right?" she asks, while she pretends to straighten them. Normally he needs some maintenance, but the properly-fitted suit has done wonders.

"Was that okay?" he asks.

"Just what I needed, thank you." She brushes at his shoulder, where there is no lint. "If you need a moment--"

"I'm fine." He checks his other shoulder, which is just as pristine. "All set?"

"You'll do." Nathalie scans the room for Mario. While she's looking, Sidney touches her arm.

"I meant, are you all right?" Sidney asks.

Nathalie says, "Yes, of course," automatically, then remembers she'd sent him away. "Richard isn't worth a second of your time. Terry may not own the majority of a bank and play golf with state assembly members, but at least he has manners."

"He seemed nice," Sidney says. "Terry, I mean."

"Yes, he probably is." Nathalie manages to catch Mario's eye and nods at him. He looks like he could use some backup. Three-on-one is no way to talk people into anything unless they're already on board. "Up for another shift?"

"Whenever you need me." Sidney puts his hand on her elbow as easily as if he does it all the time, and unlike some gentlemen she's met who have a great deal more practice, he has no trouble keeping the touch light but present enough to be helpful. Navigating a crowded room is enough like dancing that Nathalie wants to thank Sidney, especially when they avoid a particularly loud knot of people who start backing away from one another without looking, but there isn't time.

As it is, Mario's shaking hands with the men he's talking to before she's there to help, and it looks like good news, more support, at least.

A few steps later, they've arrived, and Sidney lets her go. "Good evening, sorry, darling." Nathalie kisses Mario's cheek when he's done sealing whatever the deal is. Whatever he needed her to say to lighten the mood and remind the city fathers to smile so they remember their promises as good ideas, it's not on the tip of her tongue. "Sometimes I'm glad I didn't fall in love with a short man," she says, stalling for time. "At least I can always find him in a crowd." It's not quite as tired a line as calling him goal-oriented, but it doesn't deserve the smiles she gets for it, either. "And--Sidney, dear, have you been introduced?"

Having him there is almost as good as walking a dog for starting conversations. One of them is a fan, thank goodness, and the other two relax slightly. It's as if they think Mario can't be getting things done tonight while he's also chaperoning a hockey player and preventing him from terrorizing the party.

Anyone who's been keeping track of how many glasses of wine Sidney has carried around so far might worry that he's about to be a nuisance--especially if anyone talked to the bartenders about whether they've checked his identification. Nathalie introduced him before the crowd arrived and made it very clear that they were to do no such thing, and that if they caught him drinking they should tell her.

Like so much else, that was a show, too, and she'd warned him beforehand. The downside of giving him fair warning was that when he rolled his eyes at her and said, "I'm not going to ruin the party," it sounded like he was reading a line, which he does badly. None of the caterers needed to know that, though, or anything more than that he wasn't going to be any trouble, and that she'd settle up the tips at the end of the party.

"So, Sidney," the fan says, "are you planning on staying in town?"

"I hope so," Sidney says. He has an easier time selling that line, for all it's a line, and they all know it. "I really like Pittsburgh, and everyone has made me feel like it's my home." He pauses and Nathalie bites her tongue so she doesn't smile until he delivers the punchline. "Except when we lose, anyway."

"Good man," the fan says, and shakes his hand again, grinning. "Monday, ten, all right, Mario?"

"Absolutely." Deals have fallen through with much more solid contracts than a promised meeting. But after they've said their goodbyes, Mario looks relaxed for the first time all night, like he's at a party instead of a series of high-stakes meetings.

"Are you hungry?" Nathalie asks.

Mario says, "Starving. I've been talking all night, but Thompson is on board, and he's bringing Gates in. That'll help with Cohen."

"Good. Great." Nathalie grins at him. "I knew you could do it." When she turns to check on Sidney, he's halfway across the room already, heading for the hors d'oeuvres table, and there's another couple bearing down on them. "I could get used to this," Nathalie says, and takes Mario's arm. It's much easier to put on her best smile again and get back to work with someone else to look after the little details.  



End file.
